Hallelujah
by Stephane Richer
Summary: Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you.


Hallelujah

Disclaimer: I don't own Rufus Wainwright's recording of "Hallelujah" or JK Rowling's Harry Potter.

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The first time Hermione saw her, she knew there was something about Luna. She could barely look away at the sorting, as the ethereal fairy-girl sat down on the stool, calmly and confidently placing the hat on her head. For some reason she couldn't explain, Hermione hoped this girl would not be in Gryffindor. She couldn't handle it if she was. And, luckily for Hermione, she was put in Ravenclaw. Long after the feast had appeared, Hermione's gaze was focused on Luna Lovegood. Her friends chalked up her distraction to the absence of Ron and Harry, but they did not bother to check what was in her line of sight.

She convinced herself that there was something wrong with her. After all, Hermione was only twelve. She preoccupied herself with school, with the Polyjuice potion, but it was never enough. All she really thought about was this mysterious first-year. It was easy to refer to her as "Loony", the way the rest of the school seemed to refer to her, but she secretly was outraged. She saw a bit of herself in Luna, the way she was outcast but didn't seem to care. But the year wore on and Luna didn't find her Ron and Harry. She wandered, lost in others' cruel words.

Then, of course, Hermione was petrified.

But that proved to be no distraction. As soon as she was cured, she saw the notice on the wall, Luna's, for help finding her missing things. And so Hermione went to the library and perfected the summoning charm in time to obtain Luna's shoes, hairbrush, spare robes, homework planner, and potions ingredients, leaving them in a neat pile outside the common room for her, with protective wards so that anyone other than the intended could not move them.

The next year was even harder. Being in two places at once, she saw Luna almost twice as much. It was unnerving how the little Ravenclaw seemed to pop up wherever Hermione was. She sat next to Hermione (coincidentally, of course) at a quidditch match and even the dementors did nothing to cool her down. She was enthralled by the younger's beautiful hair and large eyes that seemed to see right through her confident facade, and the pale, moonlight-colored face. No one expected Hermione to pay attention to the quidditch match, anyway.

The year after that was still harder. Helping Luna with her increasing amount of missing items while trying to placate both Ron and Harry was just too much, especially on top of the increased workload and the attentions of a certain Bulgarian quidditch player. Still, Hermione impressed herself by finding time to help Luna. She'd shoot curses at Luna's enemies from behind the tapestries and recover her missing things even more quickly. She'd begun to wait, disillusioned, for Luna to come by and pick up her lost things. She always looked directly at Hermione when she picked them up, as if she knew the other was there, even shooting small smiles in that direction. Hermione took special care to avoid Luna in other instances.

She had to stop in her fifth year, however. Because, somehow, Luna wormed her way into Hermione's group of friends, and goddamn, Hermione knew this time. She could put a name and a role on her feelings, no matter how much she didn't want to. So she kept watching and waiting, not speaking to Luna alone and directly, just in the context of the DA. But Luna knew, and Hermione knew it, and Luna knew she knew. So it was only a matter of time before something would happen...and Hermione was coming perilously close to the breaking point. She would cast a silencing charm on herself every night to avoid waking up and screaming Luna's name, for her dreams were haunted by long white limbs and golden hair and big eyes.

And sooner or later, Luna confronted her. Her fourteenth year was not an awkward one; she still maintained an innocent beauty with those knowing eyes. It was in the spring, down by the lake. They had been taking a stroll with Neville, when Neville had spotted an important plant growing and had grabbed a specimen and run off to show Professor Sprout. Alone in a clearing, Luna looked into Hermione's eyes and slowly kissed her.

Hermione felt the release of endorphins and the sweet sensation of Luna's fingers in her own, and she never wanted the moment to end. She pressed closer, close enough to feel the contours of Luna's body against her own.

She could have taken Luna right then and there, but she knew she wasn't ready. She would have fainted, was almost swooning at the gravity-defying kiss that was beyond expectation or reason. As she pulled away, Luna's soft lips curled into a smile.

The summer consisted of stolen moments between the Burrow and Luna's house, whenever Hermione could catch a moment to herself. She would notify Luna using the modified DA coins, and they'd talk or hold hands or kiss, content with that. Hermione was perfectly happy to go at a slow pace, and Luna was as well-the summer felt unreal, as if it would last forever.

Of course, it did not and soon enough they were back at school. The dark times seemed to grow darker, the work loomed higher over Hermione's head, and she almost never saw Luna. The aching in her heart and body returned, and Luna was in her dreams every second of every night, smiling, whispering, touching. Hermione felt as if she had been pushed over the edge but was suspended in midair, and she had to do something. With all of Harry's worrisome new information with regards to Voldemort, it felt more and more like she could die at any moment. And when Hermione saw Luna the night of the Christmas party, she could hold back no longer. All of Hermione's dorm-mates had gone home early for the holidays, so she waited for McLaggen to get distracted by his reflection and grabbed Luna's hand, racing through shortcuts in the corridors and staircases, to the Fat Lady's portrait (she let them in although she raised an eyebrow at Luna) and to the deserted common room, the stairs, and the sixth-year girls' dormitory.

Luna's eyes were wide but fiery, and as Hermione kissed her she knew this was the right time. And Luna knew as well, tearing at Hermione's clothes as Hermione fumbled with Luna's top button before she gave up. Luna slid the dress off of Hermione as both girls kicked off their shoes, leaving Hermione in her black bra and panties, shivering in the cold breeze. Luna was mostly dressed, looking like some kind of robot princess, but she didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were feasting on Hermione's defined curves. Hermione staggered back to sit down on the bed, and Luna reached back and unhooked the bra, warm but trembling fingers sending tingles down Hermione's back.

"I've never done this before," Luna remarked conversationally.

Hermione laughed, both in relief and at the ridiculousness of the other's tone. "Me either." She let the bra fall from her arms onto the floor, and Luna could hold back no longer, They began kissing with a fiercer passion than the darkest curse, touching one another everywhere at once, greedily, hungrily. The night was filled with aching, uncontrollable ascensions and climaxes. When they parted in the morning it was as if something had been satisfied but something else, at the same time, had opened up a world of possibilities.

And then that fateful night came, and Harry gave them the lucky potion but Hermione still did not feel safe. She reached out for Luna's hand next to her in the darkness and was met with calm, warm reassurance. Looking back at that moment, it was probably what kept her going that night, knowing that Luna was there.

And after all that happened, before and after and in-between, they had one another.


End file.
